


Yaim’la

by what_am_i_even_doing_tho



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_am_i_even_doing_tho/pseuds/what_am_i_even_doing_tho
Summary: Corin works too hard and gets a cold. Luckily, his husband is there to make sure he gets better.(No warnings except for tooth-rotting fluff!)
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110





	Yaim’la

**Author's Note:**

  * For [layeredlikeanonion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/layeredlikeanonion/gifts), [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).



> This is my first posted Mandorin fic. I wrote it last night. It was not easy. Angst is my forte, but I promised my server wife that I would write something fluffy, and I am not one to break a promise. I actually really enjoyed writing this, as difficult as it was. 
> 
> Thanks to the Mandorin discord server for giving me ideas, encouraging me as I wrote, and helping me come up with titles. Y'all are the best and I love you.
> 
> Thanks to my server wife for getting me to try out fluff. I may still enjoy writing angst more, but now I see the appeal in writing something so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum!
> 
> Thanks to LadyIrina for creating Corin and letting us play with him. You're a legend for introducing us to this wonderful man.
> 
> (I may revisit this and actually put effort into editing it, but I just want to get it up, right now.)

If Din had been more awake at the time, maybe he would’ve seen how downright exhausted Corin looked when he came up to take his turn watching the controls. They both had been running on full cylinders for a few days now, and it had taken a lot out of them. So instead of taking notice, Din had just grumbled his thanks and made his way down the ladder. Not even bothering to take off any of his armor, he plopped down on the cot and fell fast asleep.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that the engines were no longer running. That could only have meant they had reached their destination, which didn’t make sense considering he should’ve been woken up hours before they ever arrived. Still groggy from sleep, but feeling so much better than before, he climbed up to the cockpit to find out what was going on.

Upon reaching the pilot’s chair, Din took in the slumped-over form of his kar’ta. It looked like Corin had decided to let Din sleep in instead of taking over the controls, and then had fallen asleep himself once they landed. Din sighed fondly and reached out a hand with the intent of gently shaking the other man awake. He paused, however, when he noticed the shivers wracking Corin’s frame.

Din frowned and saw the sickly pallor of Corin’s skin, as well as the sweat glistening across his brow. He sighed again, this time the fondness tinged with exasperation, and turned the chair to pick Corin up. Corin stirred once in his arms, and he blinked blearily up at Din.

“Hmm…?” He snuffled. “Wha… Wha’s happenin’?” Corin’s face was scrunched up ever so cutely in confusion, and Din couldn’t help but the smile that grew behind his helmet. He leaned down for a what was supposed to be a brief kov’nyn but aborted the motion and reeled back when Corin sneezed violently.

“You seem to have caught a bug, cyar’ika. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.” Din said softly. He walked over to the ladder and groaned internally at the dilemma that now faced him. How was he supposed to get Corin down to the cot?

“Corin, ner kar’ta, do you think you can climb down on your own?”

Corin, who had drifted off again, started awake at his name. He glanced between the ladder and his riduur with a look of intense concentration on his face before finally nodding, “Yeah, I can do that.”

Din carefully placed Corin on his feet, hands hovering anxiously when Corin swayed.

“I’m fine, Din. I’m fine.”

He couldn’t hold back his scoff at that, and Corin shot him an unimpressed glare. He turned towards the ladder and swayed once again. Din, whose hands were still nearby, was able to steady him easily.

“How about I go down first, okay?”

Corin seemed to contemplate that for long enough that Din was starting to worry, before at last he nodded. A small giggle escaped his lips, and Din raised an eyebrow. Maker, this was not going to end well.

Din hurried down the ladder and watched with increasing anxiety as Corin clumsily started his descent. He didn’t even notice when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, or when his hands clenched and unclenched sporadically, so focused was he on his riduur’s every move. He felt the air rush out of his lungs and panic grip his heart when, halfway down, Corin slipped.

His arms shot out and he caught Corin with relative ease, although Corin did bang his elbow on Din’s helmet hard enough to make his ears ring. Corin whimpered in pain and clutched his wounded elbow to his chest as well as he could while in a heap in his cyare’s arms. Din tsked softly and muttered under his breath, “You should be more careful, ner kar’ta.”

Corin nodded miserably and Din carried him over to the cot, gently placing him down. With hurried steps, he dashed off to retrieve a wet cloth. Once it was in hand, he pulled up a crate so that he could sit down beside the cot. He took his gloves and helmet off and gently pushed Corin’s sweaty hair away from his face. Din pressed his lips against Corin’s forehead, and then started to wipe his face with the cloth.

As Din worked, Corin’s face became increasingly bewildered. Eventually, he raised a shaking hand to try to push Din’s away.

“I’m fine, cyare... I’m…” Corin trailed off with a giggle, eyes seemingly fixated on Din’s still moving hand.

Din didn’t even bat an eye, just kept wiping away the sweat, trying to cool down his riduur. Until Corin wrapped his fingers around Din’s wrist, that is. Din froze, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He tried to pull away, but Corin’s grip only tightened.

“Corin?” Din asked, breath somewhat unsteady. Corin was now rubbing his thumb against the soft skin above his pulse point, and it was very distracting. The sick man’s gaze shifted from Din’s hand to his eyes with something akin to awe painted across his face. Din felt himself flush under the scrutiny.

“Your hands… They’re so… Pretty.” Din choked in surprise, and opened his mouth to say something, but Corin continued, “Your wrists are pretty, too. And your arms. And your face.”

Corin giggled again and smiled goofily. “You’re so pretty, Din.”

Suddenly, as abrupt as if a flip had been switched, Corin sobered and dropped Din’s wrist. Startled, Din just let his hand fall to the bed. He watched carefully as Corin’s face crumpled.

“Hey, can… Can I tell you a secret?” Corin asked cautiously.

“Of course, ner kar’ta. You can tell me anything.” Din rubbed soothing circles into Corin’s chest.

“And… And you promise you won’t hate me?”

Din let go of the cloth and brought both hands up to cup Corin’s flushed cheeks. He leaned over him until their foreheads met. “I could never hate you, ner cyare. Never. No matter what you have to say.”

Corin took a steeling breath before looking up to meet Din’s eyes. Din felt his heart skip a beat at the unwavering love and adoration he saw on the other man’s face.

“I really like you, Din. I think I love you.”

A wide grin spread across Din’s face, and a soft chuckle pushed past his lips. “I should hope so, ner mesh’la kar’ta. Considering we’re married and all.”

Corin started to smile back, only for a cough to rattle its way out.

“Alright, Corin. Time for you to get some much-needed rest. As soon as you’re better, we’re going to have a talk about how important it is for you to take care of yourself. Again.”

The sick man grumbled slightly but closed his eyes anyway. Din stood up from the crate and stretched, before taking the rest of his armor off and setting it down. 

“The little womp rat is in his room, right?” Din asked. As if right on cue, the door to the kid’s room opened, and the ad’ika hopped down and waddled over. He looked up at Din expectantly and raised his arms. Ever the obedient father, Din obliged and picked up his son.

The kid cooed, sounding pleased. Then, he looked over at his other father and pointed, making a questioning sound.

“Your buir is sick right now, ad’ika. He needs to rest and then he’ll be as right as rain.” The child warbled sadly but nodded his understanding. He cried in protest, however, when Din started walking back towards his room.

“I know, I’m sorry. You can’t get too close to him, or you’ll get sick, too. Corin will be fine, ad’ika, I promise.”

He still looked upset, but thankfully the child let Din tuck him back into bed. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Din gave his son a gentle kov’nyn before closing the door and heading back to the cot. Corin seemed to be fast asleep, but he cracked his eyes open when Din lay down next to him.

“Din, you shouldn’t,” He said worriedly. “I don’t want you to get sick, too.”

“Oh, so now you admit that you aren’t fine?” Din chuckled softly and pressed a chaste kiss to Corin’s lips. “Don’t worry, ner cyar’ika. I’ll be alright.”

Corin, too tired and comfortable with Din’s arms wrapped around him to argue, fell back into a dreamless sleep.

~~

A few days and one very important discussion later, Corin was feeling his usual self again. They were on their way to the next planet, and it was now Din’s turn to watch the controls. Corin made his way down the ladder and towards the cot, and he rested a gentle hand on his riduur’s shoulder. When Din didn’t respond, Corin frowned and shook him lightly.

Din groaned and let out a violent cough that made Corin’s own ribs wince in sympathy. He sat up shakily and ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

“You’ll be alright, huh?” Corin asked softly, a smug smile on his lips.

Din squinted at him and croaked out, “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say-”

“I told you so.”

With another groan, Din flopped back down onto the cot bonelessly. A full body shiver wracked his frame, and Corin grabbed a wet cloth to dab at his cyar’ika’s forehead.

“It’s a good thing you have me here to take care of you, isn’t it?”

**Author's Note:**

> Yaim’la- comfortable, familiar, sense of “at home”
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
